


Emergency

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon, Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-28
Updated: 2005-05-28
Packaged: 2018-12-27 00:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12070041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Justin winds up in the emergency room at death's door after a fight.





	Emergency

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Justin knew before the first punch was thrown. There was no doubt in his mind. The loathing in each pair of eyes, the low growl in each threatening voice. Backpacks strewn on the ground like forgotten children's toys, all giving him a firm handle on the next couple of moments: The bullies of St. James Academy meant business and Justin was going down.   
*But not without a fight.* He thought defensively. He lowered his own bag, somewhat regretting not pulling out a nice thick book to slam into Chris Hobbs' smug face. 

"You gonna try to fight us, Taylor?" Chris mused, looking from side to side at his cronies with a smirk. 

"I'm gonna do more than try. Does that bother you?" Justin shot back nastily. A tremor ran up his spine as the adrenaline rushed through his body. A teacher on duty deliberately turned her head. Justin swore under his breath, wondering what was wrong with some people. 

"You're gonna have to try pretty hard to take us all." 

"Something tells me if you fall, the clones will too." 

Chris nodded decisively. "Oh yeah?" 

Justin scoffed. "-That- took a lot of effort, Chris. Maybe you should lie down. I hope it didn't hurt bad enough to make you miss practice." 

"Faggot." Chris snarled. 

"You know they say the biggest homophobes are the biggest closet queers." Justin stood his ground. He wanted something to happen: the group of jocks to move on or the fight to start, something to bring them out of this perpetual loop. 

"You read that in your gay psychology magazines?" 

"At least I -can- read." Justin rolled his eyes. This was getting infantile, but in the very least he got a few members of the crowd surrounding him to chuckle. *That says something about our school system.* He thought bitterly. 

"Fuck you, Taylor!" 

"I don't fuck someone more than once, Hobbs." 

Chris bit his lip. Something struck home with that one. 

"Tell me something, Chris." Justin continued. He suddenly wanted the football player to strike him, for reasons he could not yet conceive. 

"What?" 

"When your parents got a divorce, were they still brother and sister?" 

Chris' strong right hook connected hard with Justin's jaw, sending a bolt of fire over his entire face. He staggered backwards, struggling to keep his vision clear of all the stars. He jumped towards Chris, only to be yanked back by his tie from some unseen hand in the cheering crowd. 

Justin gagged, searching for air. Chris made contact again with his fists, pounding the eyes, nose, mouth, and temples of his victim. He sunk his arm into Justin's stomach, doubling him over. Justin braced himself on the ground with one elbow, the other clutching his middle. Chris swung back with his cleated foot and struck Justin's lower abdomen with a winning field-goal kick. Justin retched, the same someone still clinging to his tie. Agony swirled from his belly like shards of broken ice, circling into his consciousness. He could no longer think straight, acting blindly on instincts. He rolled onto his side and kicked into the darkness. He felt something meet with his foot, then heard a scream that nearly matched his own suffering. Justin's eyes flew open; his mind suddenly aware of new oxygen only seconds after his lungs gulped it in greedily. The crowd was receding like his math teacher's hairline. He stared at Chris as the black fuzziness faded. The instigator of this whole mess was on his knees, hands cupping his testicles, mouth twisted in sheer discomfort. *No jock strap today?* Justin thought wryly. He got to his feet slowly, eyeing the group. "Couple of things about us fags, Chris." Justin hissed. "Even in the dark, we go for the crotch." He backed away a few steps and hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder. "Oh." He stopped. "And we'll always leave you on your knees." 

Justin smiled more to himself than to the gathering of stunned upperclassmen, though he did offer them a great shit-eating grin. As soon as he was away from school grounds and positive he wasn't being followed, Justin sighed heavily. He tested his split lip gingerly with his tongue, hissing in pain and immediately drawing back. That seemed like the worst of it, though everything below his hair and above his toes throbbed with sympathy pains for his torso. Justin closed his eyes at the onset of nausea and dizziness. He stumbled with a sudden sharp pain in his side, a scream escaping before he could control it. He grabbed at the new shooting fire, its intensity growing as if a knife were being twisted there. He landed hard on the pavement, gritting his teeth. Tears streaked down his pale face. *No.* He ordered himself. *Get up. Don't let this happen. Don't-* Another painful jab shook him from all rational thought. He panicked, pulling himself up and lurched awkwardly to the nearest pay phone. He dialed 911 and ordered himself to speak clearly. 

"911 Emergency, what's your emergency?" 

"Help. Am. Bu. Lance. One. Block. From. St. James. Academy. Vindon. Avenue. Fight. Abdomen. Pain." He whimpered then screamed again. His voice came out in short gasps. "Seventeen. Male. Justin. Taylor." He felt hot liquid run down his pant leg and his knees weakened. Justin knew it wasn't urine. He hung up the phone despite the operator's plea to stay on the line. Justin began to cry, chancing a look to the bottom of the phone booth where he'd inevitably slid down. A dark pool had already taken shape. Justin looked up with urgency. He grabbed the phone off its receiver and reached the numbers to dial Brian's cell phone. 

"What?" Came a stern, annoyed voice almost immediately. He was with someone. A client maybe. It was only a little after four. 

"Hospit-" Justin caught his breath and screamed. "Hospital!" 

"Justin?" Brian yelled, horror flooding his entire body. "Justin!" 

Sirens wailed into reality as an ambulance raced around the corner. Justin let his head fall against the booth wall, his body letting someone else fight for his life. 

* 

"I don't know." Pause. "No." Pause. "I don't know!" Brian said into his cell phone, his jeep speeding through a four-way intersection like a bat out of hell. "He screamed 'hospital' and wouldn't answer me after that. Then I heard sirens." He listened to the person on the other end of the telephone. "Yes, of course I'm on my way there! What kind of a question is that, Ted-" He listened some more. "Lets not get into the heartless shit thing right now. You're the only one answering his phone. Get the guys, get Deb. Whoever you can." Pause. "This is not a joke, Ted. He was definitely hurt." Brian hung up the phone, severe emotion engulfing him. *That scream.* He thought and couldn't get it out of his mind. *I've never heard such a.* "Oh Jesus." He swallowed hard, his voice nothing but a whisper. 

* 

The EMT's rolled Justin into the emergency room on a gurney, shouting above other incoming patients and their trauma teams. "Seventeen year old male, Justin Taylor. ALOC on the scene. BP 70/50, pulse 120. Pupils are equal and non-reactive." A man on the left of the stretcher said of the boy's conscious state. He had been out completely when they arrived with a condition steadily dropping from hope. 

"Okay." Doctor Robert Kynes said as they wheeled him into a trauma room. "Justin, can you hear me? Let's get a chem 7, CBC, LFT, KUB, and Blood Gas. Give him .5 cc's of dilantin, amp of epinephrine, two bags O neg-" 

"Should we intubate?" A nurse asked, holding up the breathing tube. 

"Get to it." 

Voices came from all around, asking and telling, as they awaited the test results. 

"Can't tube him." 

"Try a cricothyroidotomy." Kynes ordered as they prepped to insert a plastic airway manually into Justin's throat. 

"He's hypotensive!" Someone shouted, Justin's temperature falling. 

"2 cc's of atropine." 

"Pulse ox 93." 

"Start a central line." 

"We're losing him! BP's 80 palp and crashing." 

"Give him a gram of cefotetan." 

"His first crits 31." A nurse reported. 

"Damnit, he's ruptured the appendix. Order up to the OR, tell them we're coming." 

"He's bradycardic, Kynes." 

"Try acetaminophen. 5 cc's." 

Monitors screamed as Justin's body jerked uncontrollably after the injection. 

"Shit! Anaphylactic shock. Who's allergic to Tylenol?" Kynes demanded of the acetaminophen. "Come on kid. Let's not lose him, people! Start CPR." 

"He's bleeding out!" 

"OR, now!" Kynes ordered. He ran to the elevator and tried to take control. 

* 

Brian nearly slid into a parking space and ran inside, searching the area. It seemed too quiet, as if this wasn't an emergency room lobby. People sat there like stupefied mules. Brian figured they'd been dealing with their own trauma for longer than he had and were already numbed, but forgot instantly about them when he spotted the desk. "Justin Taylor?" He asked, still catching his breath. 

"Are you family?" 

"Yes." 

The nurse buzzed the door open and Brian went through like a lost child. He scanned the curtained rooms, the central station, expecting to see Justin sitting down and smiling, not at all hurt. But there was no Justin. People talked and laughed like they were having the best day of their lives, like nothing was happening to them. He found himself despising them. 

The nurse came over and led him gently to a curtained room. "I will go get a doctor to give you an update, sir. Until then, I'll need you to fill out some forms?" 

Brian nodded and slid down in his seat. Justin had to be okay, right? Everyone was so calm, he had to be playing a joke and they were all in on it. Justin didn't get hurt. He didn't cry. He was so much braver than Brian ever could be. 

The nurse returned with a full clipboard. "Are you his brother?" 

"I'm his lover." 

For the first time at this hospital, Brian noticed that the comment didn't disgust the staff. "Well, do the best you can. Answer anything that you know." 

Brian nodded, then understood. She was being so nice because.because. he was Justin's family. The one he loved and who loved him, who would be devastated, mortified, if anything were to happen to him. 

"Is he going to be okay?" 

"The doctors are doing the best they can." She said routinely, mechanically. She had given the standard news to many people before and Brian was no different. Brian pushed his tears back. The best they can. Doing what they could to salvage his life. 

"Bri?" Michael peeked his head through the curtain, then brought it back to reveal everyone, even Lindsay and Melanie. Brian was surprised. He'd never realized how much Justin had grown on everyone, not just him. 

Brian offered a smile, but only a forced one. "The doctors are doing the best they can." 

"What happened?" Debbie asked, tears already ruining her bright makeup. 

Brian shook his head. "What I told Ted, which I'm sure has been repeated more than once, is all I know." 

"Christ. Poor Justin." Emmett sunk into the only other available chair. "You know, I'm starting to hate hospitals." 

"Starting to?" Ted asked. "I downright loathe them." 

"I was at work and-" Brian started but couldn't finish. He bit down on his fist and turned away. He felt Michael come over and squeeze his trembling shoulders. 

"Shh." Michael soothed. "He'll be okay." 

"Damn him for making me care!" Brian yelled angrily. 

"Hey, calm down." Michael warned sympathetically. "It's natural." 

"His voice." Brian held his head in his hands, covering his face. His breath seemed too hot as it escaped through his fingers. It had been a long time since he'd been upset enough to cry, especially in front of an audience. He still fought the tears, pushing them back into the void unto he never dared venture. 

"I know, I know." Michael whispered. 

"Should we call his parents?" Lindsay suggested quietly. "If they'd let them in." She attempted to lighten the mood. "He's already got a lot of family in here." 

Brian sighed softly. "Does anyone have his home number?" 

No one answered. 

"Does anyone know where his folks work?" 

Again, nothing. 

"Then the answer is no." 

Doctor Kynes stood nearby, watching the group. He assessed them to determine who was who. He came up and asked Debbie. "Mrs. Taylor?" The room became dreadfully quiet. "N-no. I'm Debbie Novotny. I've been taking care of him. We haven't been able to get a hold of his parents." 

"I'm Doctor Kynes. Come with me, please." He said gravely. Debbie nodded and followed, afraid to look back at all the faces of her boys. Doctor Kynes led Debbie down the hall. "Mrs. Novotny, the situation does not look good for Justin." 

"What happened?" 

"We think he may have been jumped by a number of people, but there's no telling. He came in here unconscious, and we have yet to bring him out of it. We gave him everything to bring up his heart rate, including acetaminophen, which gave him a severe allergic reaction and put him into Anaphylactic shock. His spleen and appendix were both ruptured, causing his blood pressure to drop dangerously low. We operated and removed the appendix, which we were unable to save. His spleen was repairable." 

Debbie nodded, thankful that the doctor was using lamen's terms. "Can he live without an appendix?" 

"Yes. But the reaction he had to the acetaminophen has put him into a coma. Many of his organs shut down from the internal bleeding and fluid. He is on life support." 

"What are his chances?" Debbie asked, choking back a sob and calming the tremor in her voice. She didn't want to know, but she had to ask. Life support. Coma. Allergic. Only bits and pieces entered her mind. 

"There's no way of telling so soon. His heart may pick up the rhythm and start pumping on its own." 

"But it may not." 

Kynes nodded. "His brain waves are what we're most concerned with right now. They are low enough to suggest permanent brain damage. After a severe allergic reaction, a fever is not unlikely. We're also monitoring that." 

"Can he come out of this and be the same person he used to be?" Debbie didn't even recognize her own voice. 

"It's not likely." 

She covered her face and took a deep breath. Doctor Kynes placed a hand on her shoulder warmly. "It's not likely, but it's not impossible." He said to her, feeling strangely compassionate towards these people. Even if it was false hope, she looked like she needed it. She didn't even seem all that concerned with the hospital's mistake in giving Justin the Tylenol. 

"Thank you, Doctor Kynes." She said through her hands. "Can we see him?" 

"ICU, fifth floor. He's in room 523. But I'm afraid he's too critical for anyone to be near him. The duty nurse will tell you all about it once you're there, I'm sure." 

Debbie nodded and thanked him again. She made her way back to the curtain area and broke down sobbing. She tried to give them the words Kynes had given her, that Justin might be okay. But she couldn't bring herself to utter a single complete word. 

Vic rubbed her back, watching the breakdown of nearly everyone in the room. He noticed that the first to go pale was Brian, fearing the worst. He was even more surprised when Michael let himself grieve right there, full-out crying, as if he and Justin had been the best of friends. Justin was the one who brought Brian and Michael back together, after all. Justin had changed all of their lives, even if some of them didn't want to admit it. 

Finally, Debbie managed to squeak. "Not dead. Not yet. Fifth floor. 523." 

* 

Five days later, Justin had gotten nothing but worse. The doctors had tried several times to contact his parents, all attempts ending in vain. They decided that if his friends didn't see him while the machines sustained his life within hours, they would never get to at all. 

"Justin?" Brian asked, holding everything in. He had wanted to go last in seeing the boy. Everyone else waited outside the windows, watching him, watching Justin. Brian didn't know what to do. He gripped Justin's hand to stop his own from trembling. "The doctor told Debbie that you were nearly brain dead. He said that we should prepare for the worst, because it doesn't look good. Are you going to let some doctor tell you when to live? You don't even let me tell you what shirt to wear, even though you wear it anyway and pull it off as your own idea." 

Brian had waited nearly three hours to see Justin from the time he woke up to the time everyone else was done talking to him. They still had no way of finding his parents. Their number was not listed. Debbie had even gone over there, but no one was home. She asked the neighbors, who didn't know. *Nice neighborhood.* Brian thought. *A bunch of rich snobs who don't even know each other.* In a way, Brian was glad that Craig and Jennifer were not present, because then Brian would be thrown out. He smiled at Justin, at the thought of doing something bad. 

"You know, being a gork means that we can't fuck anymore." Brian said effortlessly. 

"Hmmph?" The sound came out as the machine exhaled for him. 

Brian raised his eyebrows. "Justin?" He watched the screen as the bright green line moved quicker, stronger. "Justin, no sex." 

"Ungh." The blood pressure rose just slightly. His eyes battling with their eyelids to open. 

"If you open your eyes I'll let you suck me off." Brian said in shock, amazed at the change. Justin was supposed to be dying, or in the very least, a complete vegetable. The damn doctors told them to prepare themselves because Justin was getting rapidly worse. The impact of Justin coming out of it had yet to hit him. 

Justin didn't open his eyes. The movement slowed once again. His breathing became regulated by a plug in the wall. 

"All right, all right, open your eyes and -I'll- suck -you- off." A small smile formed around the tubes. 

"Holy shit. I am God." Brian said more to himself than to anyone else. "I performed yet another 'Brian Miracle'. And who says I never do anything good for anybody?" 

Justin attempted to laugh, but ended up wheezing instead. 

"I'm going to go get the doctor, you just keep proving them wrong." Brian announced, fighting the shakiness of his hands and the rubber feeling in his legs. He grabbed Justin's cock and squeezed, for kicks. "I told them." He was still not registering the fact. Justin was laughing. Justin was comatose. Justin was smiling. Justin was dying. Justin was completely controlled by sex. Justin was covered with machines and tubes. Justin would be Justin again. 

"You okay, Bri?" Michael asked as his best friend left the room. No one was really watching inside anymore, to give an ounce of privacy. Brian nodded dully, his eyes fixated. Then it hit him like a bolt of lightning. He took several deep breaths, looking from Justin lying still in the bed to his friends, then back to Justin. He laughed heartily until he could no longer contain himself and grabbed at the cramp in his side. He let his friends give him distasteful glares until he felt they would be kicking themselves for doing so, and then stood upright. 

"Oh, Mikey. Get a doctor." He smiled. "We have to get all that shit out of Justin before he laughs himself to death." 

"Brian, what are you talk-?" 

"He's awake. He remembers who I am." 

Debbie went into the room to make sure Brian hadn't lost it. She leaned over the newest member of her family. "Sunshine?" 

His blue eyes fluttered open, his cheekbones trying to rise. "Uhng Ahh App?" 

"Shh, shh. Don't try to speak." Debbie ran out of the room and straight to the nurses' desk. 

Brian smiled at the group. "That's two people I've brought out of comas with fucking." He said, grinning from ear to ear. "I think I should get critical acclaim. The Nobel Prize." 

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Don Juan." Michael groaned. "Is he really going to be all right?" 

A doctor followed Debbie back into the room, then a few nurses. Brian nodded. "I think so." 

"Great. Stupid little kid can start working again to pay for the time I took off work. You know, I've missed more work because of him than because of all of you combined!" 

Brian laughed. "Yeah, yeah, Mikey. We all hate the little shit, don't we?" 

"What happened?" Justin asked softly, as if the sound of his voice was still too much. "I remember the fight, and that's it. Then Brian grabbed me." He grinned. All eyes turned to Brian, who already had his innocent stare down pat. 

"He told me to." Brian lied. 

Doctor Kynes shook his head. "We'll need to keep you in here for observation, but we can move you to a more comfortable room, okay?" Justin nodded. 

"You sure gave us a scare." 

The boy smiled, his innocent eyes much more believable than Brian's could ever be. 

"I'll also tell the police it's okay to talk to you about what happened, is that all right with you?" 

Justin looked at Brian. He didn't want to be a rat. He didn't want to make this into a bigger thing than it was. And he certainly didn't want to put Chris in jail. 

Brian nodded. "That'll be fine. He watched the doctor exit, but not in his usual predatory sexual gaze. He sat down by Justin's bed and kissed him on the forehead. 

"What was that for?" 

"I just finished blowing some intern and I needed to wipe my mouth." 

Lindsay groaned. Melanie gagged. "You know." Lindsay said. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think that you were fond of Justin." 

Brian scoffed. "Like a hole in the head." But he smiled warmly at Justin while saying it. "He knows how he thinks I feel about him and that's good enough." 

Ted raised an eyebrow. "Huh?" 

"Exactly." Brian lifted his chin, a great weight relieved from his shoulders. Justin would be okay, not that he cared for Justin, of course, which was all there was to it. Brian could go home and fuck whomever he pleased and his life would return to normal. Or as normal as Brian wanted it to be. 

. * 

"We're going to take off." Ted said, motioning to Emmett. They both leaned down and kissed Justin. "Take care, kiddo." 

The new room was indeed more comfortable, it's yellow walls giving a bit of relaxation and laziness to the tired patrons within. 

"I gotta go, too." Michael said, checking the time. "I've got to be at the restaurant by nine or Dave'll have my hide." 

"Shit, guys, I don't want to stay here. I want to go with you!" 

Debbie smacked his hand. "Language." She scolded. 

"Please don't leave me here alone." 

Debbie chewed her lip. "It'll be okay, sweet heart. We'll come back first thing tomorrow morning." She ushered Vic towards the door after Michael, Ted, and Emmett. Lindsay sighed, holding an extremely cranky Gus in her arms. 

"Sorry, Justin. We'll come back. We all need our sleep. You do too." 

Justin sniffed, nearly as cranky as the baby. He'd had a long day, and was more frustrated and scared than he wanted to admit. 

Debbie told everyone in her quietest voice that it was for the best. He wouldn't go to sleep if they were all around making the waking world seem fun. "It's just like with an infant. You put them down because it's what's best for 'em, and even though your heart breaks every time you hear them cry in protest, they always fall asleep because that's what they were fighting all along." She ushered them all out and made sure they got into their cars and off safely. She drove Vic home after the last of her children left into the night. 

Brian pulled back into his parking space after making a circle in the back parking lot of the hospital. He bought some flowers from the gift shop and went back into Justin's room. He didn't knock, entering like the wind. Tears still wet the young boy's face, but he was asleep sounder than Brian remembered being without the aid of drugs in a long time. 

"If only you knew what you do to me." He said almost inaudibly. He felt the tears falling, a hot rush to the chill of his night frozen cheeks. This time, he didn't even try to stop them from shattering all over his new, expensive suit. He clutched the flower vase, shaking the delicate arrangement with his soft sobs. It finally hit him. Justin had almost left him that day. He almost died. A seventeen year old, innocent, fun-loving kid. He was not immortal. He would not always be there when Brian wanted. Brian was determined that memories were not good enough for him. Justin nearly died just hours earlier, and before his body gave up, he had called Brian. Through the incredible pain, Brian was the one he wanted to hear as the last voice in his life. But the boy was going to be okay, through all apparent odds, Justin came through. 

And Brian was not about to let him go ever again. Not that he'd let anyone else know, of course.


End file.
